Banter

Ward Against Disaster

Ward de'Ath should be dead by now. Instead, he’s chasing after a soul-eating creature—that he unleashed— and is bent on stopping her before she slaughters more innocents. Fortunately, Celia Carlyle remains by his side, a nobleman's gorgeous and deadly daughter, who is…well, dead.
Celia claims she’ll champion Ward wherever he goes, even when she thinks his quest is hopeless. He can only hope her pledge comes from her heart, and not because she’s bound to him through his magic.
When they enter Dulthyne, they stumble upon a dark power that threatens the entire town. Ward, with his unreliable necromancy, is determined to help but finds himself ensnared in the lure of white-hot magic…blood magic he struggles to resist. But if Celia’s love is a lie, it might just doom his soul to the dark arts forever.

I have always been drawn to story telling. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t telling a story in my head or on paper. In grade school, we had journal writing time which I turned into story telling time, weaving tales of magic and adventure that mimicked the fairy tales and myths that I loved to read. It was there, with the help of two very special teachers, that I nurtured this love and started my journey as a writer.

I write fantasy, paranormal romance, and everything in between, seasoned with a good dash of adventure and mystery. Join me on my tales of magic, adventure, and romance.

The room was dim, but clear, dark splashes of blood stained the pale plaster walls. Bloody speckles crept high, close to the ceiling. Spray from a major artery while the heart was pumping with panic. There was so much of it, as if Allette had painted all four walls with it like a manic artist.

Ward’s gaze slid to the table. More blood. Then lower.

Bile burned his throat. He knew what he’d see. All that blood. It couldn’t be from just one body.

His gaze landed on a dismembered arm first. It was so small that the hand, if curled into a fist, could have easily hidden in one of his.

His throat tightened and the bile rose higher. His pulse roared and panic clawed at his chest. This was his fault. He’d seen a corpse before. Many actually. He’d even dug a few from their graves to perform necropsies and further his illegal studies in medicine, but he’d never seen such carnage before and he couldn’t dissociate from these victims like he could with the necropsies. Father, mother, half a dozen children, all murdered. Their blood, with the precious soul magic Allette needed to survive, slicked the floor, pooled in uneven spots on the hard-packed dirt, and splattered the furniture.

He couldn’t catch his breath. “I did this.”

Celia grabbed the back of his shirt and jerked him from the doorway. He stumbled, his heel catching on a rock, and she shoved him against the wall outside the house.

“This is not your fault.”

“I knew she was a monster and I set her free.” His stomach heaved, and tears burned his eyes with the effort not to throw up. All that blood was on his hands.